


The Favor

by ianthewaiting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/M, Light Bondage, Multi, Post Hogwarts AU, Sex Toys, Smut, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ianthewaiting/pseuds/ianthewaiting
Summary: Years ago, Hermione asked a huge favor from the Weasley twins, and now they have come to collect what Hermione owes them in return. Post-Hogwarts, AU





	1. Part One – ‘I owe you one...’

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: M/M/F, light Twincest, toys, oral, anal, spanking, some bondage and overall wickedness therefore, be warned... 
> 
> Genre: Somewhat romance, mostly smut and a reason to get Fred and George to be extremely naughty. ^_^ Gods, I love gingers!
> 
> Author's Notes: This was my first full-length ficlet, originally written in 2006. I have since revised to take Deathly Hallows into consideration. HOWEVER, let's ignore the fact Fred died (spoilers). All hail my original betas, SeductionsClaim and viccro!

**Part One – ‘I owe you one...’**  
  
  
  
  
_HG,_  
  
_We are calling in our favor. WWW, Inc., Number 93, Diagon Alley, Thursday, 6:30 PM._  
  
_Sincerely,_  
 _F and G_  
  
  
  
At 6:20 PM, a certain Hermione Granger stood outside Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley watching through the window as Fred Weasley ushered the last of the browsing customers out the door. He had not noticed Hermione standing in the shadows of the late day sun, dressed in imposing heavy black robes, her unruly brown hair in a tight bun, and a scowl firmly affixed to her face. She watched as the shades were magically lowered over the two front windows and the sign hanging in the glass of the front door morphed from ‘Welcome,’ to ‘Come again at another time.’ The few customers that had been politely ushered out milled about the front of the shop until 6:25 PM and ambled on down the street to another shop open a little later. It was then Hermione moved quietly across the street and to the door, opening it quietly and moving inside. Shutting the door behind her back, Hermione blinked at the darkened interior of the shop, which seemed strangely too quiet for something with the name Weasley on the nameplate outside.  
  
“Hermione? You’re early...” a voice called from the back of the shop, near the curtain that partitioned the shop from the box room in the back.  
  
“Better early than late, how have you been, Fred?” Hermione said softly as Fred Weasley, dressed in loud magenta robes moved through the store to where Hermione stood, seemingly glued to her spot before the door.  
  
When Fred came close, Hermione felt her body relax realizing she had named the correct twin. It helped that one Twin was missing an ear, Fred had both of his, but Fred sported a thin purple scar that ran just above his left eyebrow into his hairline. The War had marked them all in some way, and in George’s case, in more obvious ways. But Hermione immediately noticed, beyond the fact that Fred was now clasping her hand in his, that he had grown a bit taller since the last time she had seen him three years previous. The Weasley twins had both been on the stocky side, but now, if Fred was any indication, both boys seemed to have grown into the gangly bodies of the Gryffindor Quidditch Beaters Hermione remembered.  
  
“Good, good...business is great; we just opened a shop in America two months ago. Our shares are up, and we are expecting to open another store in China next year...”  
  
Hermione heard only a little of what Fred was saying as he gently pulled her through the darkened shop, flinching out of habit as Fred flicked his wand over his shoulder to magic the shop door locked. Hermione glanced about, seeing shelves of boxes, some Skiving Snackboxes (still quite popular at Hogwarts) with the label reading ‘New and Improved!” There were some things that Hermione realized were new to her, things she had not remembered seeing on her last trip to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes when she had first come during her trip before the start of that fateful Sixth year.  
  
“How have _you_ been?” Fred asked, his question disrupting Hermione’s thoughts. “And how can you stand to wear such heavy robes in summer?”  
  
Hermione felt her lips curl into a slight smirk. “I have been well, and the robes...I’m used to them. Maybe it is in anticipation for the new term.”  
  
Fred smirked and returned to talking of how business was booming as he led her into the box room in the back of the shop.  
  
“George is setting out some cucumber sandwiches and iced tea in the back, and we will explain...”  
  
Hermione blinked, feeling Fred’s large, calloused hand squeeze hers gently as he opened a door, which Hermione had not noticed in the dark of the box room. Light streamed past Fred’s silhouetted form and slightly blinded Hermione as he led her inside. As her amber brown eyes adjusted she realized she now stood in a small parlor with high windows in the back wall. A set of stairs were set against the right wall, leading up to what Hermione assumed were the apartments over the shop she had heard about. And on the right wall was a large fireplace with a small table and chairs before the hearth. In the middle of the room were two plaid covered armchairs flanking a poorly stuffed red sofa. But what caught Hermione’s eye and attention even more than the layout and décor of the parlor was George Weasley, sans magenta robes, setting a tray of sandwiches on the table, smiling warmly at Hermione as he did so.  
  
“And there she was,” George chuckled, moving about the table to greet Hermione, taking her hand from Fred and shaking it gently.  
  
“Early...just like I said she would be,” Fred mumbled, doffing his robes and throwing them on the old sofa revealing an old gray tee shirt and Muggle jeans. George was dressed similarly but his shirt was a pale blue and seemed a bit newer.  
  
“Come in, have a seat, everything is ready for a nice sit down,” George said extending his arm to invite Hermione in. “And take off those robes, you are off duty, Professor.”  
  
She did not hesitate to take off her robes since it really was a bit warm in the parlor and she felt the twins’ eyes upon her as she let the heavy black robes slip off her shoulders. Hermione left the bun, enjoying the breeze on the back of her neck, no matter how the bun made her appear a bit severe. And despite the heavy robes, she had decided to wear something cool underneath, a black tank top and black Capri cut pants with slip on black ballet flats. She knew her transformation was probably a bit puzzling, considering that her robes rivaled that of the former Potions Master at Hogwarts. But she was the Potions Mistress now and no one spoke of the overgrown bat of the past anymore...  
  
But as she placed her robes on the back of the nearest armchair she grimaced a bit knowing that even though her robes were heavy, black and a bit too much for public wear, they were her best robes...money was a bit tight, even with a position at Hogwarts. Although the War had been over for six years, the Wizarding world was still not facing real prosperity any time soon, this was still a period of Reconstruction and her wages were barely enough to live on especially if she had opted to live outside of Hogwarts. But she was glad to see and hear that Fred and George were doing so well. Their ‘wheezes’ were just what the Wizarding world needed to help forget the horrors of the years before, and Hermione respected their work more than ever before...but now...  
  
She joined Fred and George, noticing that they seemed to be waiting for her to sit down and relax a bit. She knew that they were waiting to spring their trap on her...the favor. Hermione shuddered slightly causing the Twins to glance at each other quickly and then move to serve her some iced tea in a tall glass and place a plate and napkin before her. So it was food and drink to lull her a bit, she thought, letting her lips move into a slight scowl.  
  
The iced tea was refreshing and reminded her of summers at the Burrow which seemed like lifetimes ago. The cucumber sandwiches had a little too much dill, but it soothed Hermione’s stomach from the nervous churn she had felt since she had received the letter reminding her of ‘the favor.’ Finally she dabbed her lips with her napkin and sat back in her chair, glancing from George who sat across from her and then to Fred who sat to her right. Again, they seemed to have been waiting for Hermione, their glasses empty, plates clean, and napkins neatly folded on the tabletop.  
  
“Now that the pleasantries are over, let’s get down to it, shall we?” Hermione said in her best ‘Professor’ voice, crossing her arms before her chest.  
  
“Yes, let’s,” they said in unison which was something Hermione did not find too surprising, she had been used to their voices for years despite the fact that time had passed since she had last talked to them.  
  
“If this is about the ingredients I asked for three years ago...”  
  
“It is,” Fred answered, “and before you renege on your promise for a favor in return, we should tell you that we had to pay a handsome fee for what you asked for...”  
  
“Nothing too painful, I hope,” Hermione sighed, raising her hand to rub the spot between her eyes, she felt the beginning of a nasty headache.  
  
“Five months profits, some sensitive information on some of our projects as well as some strange requests from Charlie’s mates, all twenty of them,” George answered in a tired sigh.  
  
“Dragon keepers are total freaks,” Fred muttered, leaning his elbows on the tabletop, staring into the empty fireplace with a pained, yet melodramatic expression.  
  
Hermione’s left brow raised and she crossed her arms again.  
  
“And this favor I owe you?”  
  
The melodramatic expression faded into a mischievous grin, “We’re getting to that,” Fred answered.  
  
Hermione dropped her hands to her lap, expecting the worst. The worst was all she could expect from these identical terrors, now full grown and all the more to worry about.  
  
“We were hoping to use a bit of your brilliant Muggle knowledge...” George began.  
  
“...since you are Muggle-born and understand the Muggle world more than we _ever_ could...”  
  
“...we usually slept through Muggle Studies...”  
  
Hermione scoffed instead of trying to laugh. The Twins never did finish their education at Hogwarts after leaving during her fifth year. However the Twins did petition to lift the lifetime ban against their Quidditch playing and won with the help of a brilliant solicitor, Hermione had read a notice in the Daily Prophet a year or so ago...  
  
“You see, it has to do in part with the gift you gave Ginny...”  
  
Hermione frowned, confused.  
  
“...the gift you gave her at her bachelorette party,” George finished.  
  
Hermione blinked, realization setting in quicker than a potions stain on her best robes.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Fred nodded and George smiled widely. Hermione’s reaction and her distant gaze that seemed to settle on the jug of ice tea, tracing a tear of condensation moving down the glass, amused both ginger haired men.  
  
“That...that was a gag gift; you should have seen what Luna gave her...” Hermione trailed, her mind slipping back in time to Ginny Potter nee Weasley’s bachelorette party...Hermione had been quite drunk and she vaguely remembered snogging with one of the male strippers that Lavender Brown had hired.  
  
“We saw, but it was your gift that got us thinking about product expansion,” Fred began, his voice becoming quite serious in tone, businesslike. “Granted we are pleased with our current line of products and we have so much more we would like to develop, but...”  
  
George continued, “We have a prototype after we nicked ‘it’ from Ginny...”  
  
Hermione snapped out of her daze, shocked.  
  
“...we gave ‘it’ back,” Fred interjected, his brow furrowing at Hermione’s reaction.  
  
“That...that was not what I was thinking...” Hermione said weakly.  
  
“...and we have sent a few prototypes to a select few beta testers. And so far...so good.”  
  
Hermione huffed, the Twins had beta testers for...for ‘that?’  
  
“But can’t wizarding folk get these...these things from other places?” Hermione asked, feeling suddenly too warm and too aware of the twins’ eyes upon her.  
  
“Of course, but not without our special modifications and guarantees... Most shops that sell these sorts of things are down Knockturn Alley which I am sure you know is not the sort of place many people want to venture down or be associated with these days.”  
  
Hermione agreed with a subtle nod of her head. She had seen those types of shops during her own few and quick trips to the apothecaries down Knockturn Alley. It was not as if she were afraid of going down that filthy alley, but she had seen how dirty and foul everything was inside and outside of the shops... But her thoughts turned again to Fred and George and their line of thinking, and for them to consider what she was thinking of...  
  
“So what do you want from me?” Hermione asked, refusing to speculate any further and wanting to know what her return favor was to be exactly.  
  
Fred and George cast a meaningful glance at each other, and while their eyes were still connecting in a way that had always mystified Hermione as to the meaning, Fred answered.  
  
“We want you to take us to the shop where you bought Ginny’s...Ginny’s...what do you call them?” Fred asked, turning his eyes to Hermione expressing a strange sense of innocent curiosity.  
  
“A vibrator,” George supplied, his eyes also on Hermione, noticing the blush rising from her chest and up her throat.  
  
“Yes, the shop where you got Ginny’s vibrator,” Fred completed with a sly smile sending Hermione to her feet in surprise, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. George also rose to his feet in astonishment to Hermione’s reaction, leaning over the table slightly, his face one of pleading.  
  
“We are completely serious, Hermione. And you’re the only one we can ask,” George said calmly, slowly sitting back in his seat realizing that Hermione’s chair had settled back on its feet.  
  
“Why not ask another Muggle-born, a male friend perhaps?” Hermione suggested, trying not to sound too horrified at the twins’ request.  
  
“We tried, and it did not go over well,” Fred chuckled half-heartedly.  
  
“Tell a bloke that you want to go to a Muggle sex shop and you warrant yourself some strange ideas and glances,” George said in complete seriousness.  
  
“So you’re the only one, Hermione...and you owe us big.”  
  
Hermione felt her blush rise all the way to her face. The Twins were serious...for once. Slowly gathering herself, she sat down again. She knew that she really did owe the Weasley Twins, those ingredients were impossible for her to ever afford with her meager salary and the ingredients had come in so useful being so undiluted and pure. But to go to a sex shop, with Fred and George Weasley... Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples slowly, knowing that the Twins were waiting for her reply.  
  
“And what are you two planning _if_ I take you?” Hermione asked in nearly a whisper, her mind flashing all the sordid little plans she had an idea they would say.  
  
The Twins glanced at each other again. “We would buy a few items, dismantle them, test them, redevelop with our personal modifications, beta test and market accordingly,” Fred answered.  
  
“But the difference is that we will be selling these items through a catalogue, so you don’t have to worry...we’re not opening a shop down Knockturn Alley,” George chuckled at Hermione’s horrified expression.  
  
“We have begun the process of opening a discreet branch of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes called Wanton Witch and in time a department for men...all of which is the adult side to WWW,” Fred explained once again in that businesslike tone.  
  
Hermione listened although she could do nothing for the blush that flushed her normally pale complexion.  
  
“We sell plenty of love potions and Patented Daydreams to adolescents and schoolgirls, but we are convinced that by starting a line of adult products all the demographics will be covered. And with the increase in profits we can afford to start our own labs with a full staff, hire better beta testers, afford to win more contracts from the Ministry and pay to open spaces for mass production of some of our more popular items,” Fred said, pouring another glass of iced tea for the three of them.  
  
“And we can open more stores and become a legitimate chain business. We could edge out a lot of the other joke shops in Britain and the Continent as well as buy the patents to some of the wares owned by Zonko’s and others.”  
  
Hermione listened to Fred and George talk business, realizing that these men had grown up so much more than she ever could have thought possible. The ease in which they talked of such things as profit margins, demographics, corporate takeovers as well as the development states of products that included many of the fields Hermione dealt in, made it poignantly seem Hermione had misjudged the Weasley twins...they were brilliant business men and inventors.  
  
“...all of our own variations, spells and research, of course. All of this bit of work so that we can patent something original. But we want the Muggle...er...toy, to study...”  
  
At the sudden silence that filled the parlor, Hermione snapped from her own thoughts and noticed once again, something that was ever reoccurring during this visit, two sets of pale blue eyes were set upon her.  
  
“Still with us?” Fred asked, tapping Hermione’s shoulder.  
  
“Yes... I...”  
  
“I think we lost her for a moment there, Fred,” George chided with a smile.  
  
“So, Hermione? Will you help us?” Fred asked, letting his large hand mold over the curve of Hermione’s bare shoulder, sending a warm jolt down Hermione’s spine.  
  
“I...” she trailed again, feeling as if her logical mind had shut down and the sensation of Fred’s hand on her bare skin was the only thing that was real.  
  
“We’ll send you a package of our final products, but if you want to be a beta tester you’ll have to sign some forms and meet with our solicitor,” George chuckled lifting his iced tea toward his mouth. Hermione eyes were riveted to the shape of George’s lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he drank...then to the drop of condensation from the cold glass running from George’s chin, past his jaw and to his throat. Hermione’s mind was quickly inundated with thoughts that she confined to the times she was alone in her chambers at Hogwarts...and her voice rasped out...  
  
“Wh-when do we go?”

Was there something in the air that made her body feel so…?  
  
“Tomorrow? We’re closed all of tomorrow, so that would be fine for us...” Fred answered and glanced to George for confirmation who nodded in agreement.  
  
“We’ve been in Muggle London many times, but we’re not sure of where to go and where is safe. We don’t want to end up some place too...seedy...” George said softly.  
  
“Tomorrow then...7 PM, meet at the Leaky Cauldron?” Hermione suggested letting her mouth move but slow to realize what she was saying.  
  
“You’ll take us to where you think is best?” Fred asked, leaning toward Hermione, his voice little more than a deep purr.  
  
“Yes...” Hermione hissed, refusing to meet eyes with either of the men.  
  
And then Hermione remembered little else besides Apparating at the gates of Hogwarts, her robes over her arm, somehow making it to her chambers and collapsing face first on her wide four poster bed...mumbling:  
  
“What the in seven hells was I thinking?”


	2. Part Two - Into the Lion's Den

**Part Two - Into the Lion's Den**  
  
  
  
  
It had always seemed to Hermione Granger that people thought she was some sexless thing, somewhat feminine in appearance, and judging her only by her plain exterior and more for her overwhelming instinct to learn something about absolutely everything. This sentiment was prevalent during her days as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and continued through her early twenties as she apprenticed under various Masters before receiving her own title as Potions Mistress. Hermione had given up long ago trying to prove she was a sexual being like a normal person, it was futile, her reputation as a ‘bookworm' seemed to precede her everywhere she went. This reputation even prevented Hermione from finding a suitable, attractive date on a Friday night. Even her reputation as part of the ‘Golden Trio' and friend to the famous Harry Potter seemed to stave off men from pursing her. No one wanted to know her outside of her academic and war-time efforts.  
  
Hermione knew she was fiercely independent, and she knew she was downright intimidating. But when Hermione was alone, sans heavy robes, hair down, she was all things feminine and beautiful. It was only the necessity of her profession that she wear obscuring robes and her hair was pulled back tightly from her face, it had nothing to do with her own self-image or disinterest in beauty like her House mates had once accused her of year before.  
  
Perhaps the only person who really knew her outside of her robes, noxious potion perfumes and stringy hair had been Ron Weasley. But thinking of her current status, Hermione realized that all her womanly wiles had been wasted on Ron. Deep in her heart of hearts, Hermione feared that she would end up an old maid and perhaps the only people who would have appreciated her delicate balance of intelligence and beauty were dead, missing, or too far obscured by the darker sides of the world she did not want to join them in that particular hell.  
  
So, Hermione had her own means to take care of her sexual frustrations at the very least. This means to an end manifested itself in the form of Hermione's interesting collection of ‘toys.' It had been true she had given Ginny a gag gift, but Hermione's personal life and affairs were her own, and had no bearing upon the intentions of the gift. No one truly knew, except for perhaps Ron's feeble understanding, what Hermione's sexual appetites consisted of or how she took pride in her self-expressed depravity.  
  
No one knew her fantasies or how wildly she dreamt at night, her fingertips wrinkled from delving into the damp juices between her thighs and the violent bouts of masturbation that left her nether flesh red and raw. No one knew Hermione liked to have her pink ring of puckered flesh teased open or how she wished someone would caress those petals with the tip of their tongue... No one knew that she occasionally liked a slight amount of asphyxiophilia, or breath control play, to begin her steep ascent to climax. No one knew that she liked to pinch her nipples to the point of bruising... And no one knew how she wished to be kissed from head to toe and hear sweet words of endearment. Or how she how she wanted to be cherished and loved to the point she could feel her heart swell and her eyes water with tears of happiness. Hermione's fantasies and nightly thoughts would turn to these desires more often than not. She was wanton, she was lovely, she was hurting and through time, she was getting more and more desperate for just a thorough fuck.  
  
When Fred and George Weasley had asked their favor, Hermione could not help but feel a bit embarrassed. The Weasley Twins were getting closer to her secrets, but when _had_ she somehow considered her sexual nature some sort of horrid secret? As Hermione lay in her bed at Hogwarts, she realized that all the Twins knew of her deepest wishes and desires was the fact she had bought Ginny a muggle sex toy. While Fred and George had discussed their plans, Hermione remembered feeling very warm, almost feverish. Between talk of revenue and profits were ideas of adding magic to items that she had relied on before and after her breakup with Ron to soothe that deep itch in her blood. Of course, she had ‘magicked' a few of her toys on her own...the vibrator to work without batteries, her flogger to snap at her flesh without the aid of a second party, to name a few, but what did the Twins have in mind?  
  
Hermione's curiosity had been piqued and she knew she was beginning to build the resolve to take Fred and George, trouble with a capital ‘T,' to a Muggle sex shop. She only hoped the Twins would not make total arses out of themselves... But their ideas were brilliant on all accounts, incorporating Muggle and magic. And besides of the obvious profits, Hermione wondered if it only had been the gag gift that turned Fred and George Weasley to the idea at all. Hermione yawned, it was no time to questions motives, and she had spent too many dark summer hours thinking.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Flooing from Hogsmeade to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione immediately spotted the Weasley Twins at the bar speaking to Tom, the publican who had decided to retire later that year. She noticed with some relief that both twins were outfitted in Muggle clothing, right down to faded tee-shirts with Muggle classic rock groups. Whether Fred or George knew who the Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin were was something Hermione tucked in her brain to ask at another time.  
  
Casting a quick Cleaning Charm on herself to take care of the Floo ash, she stepped toward the identical men (not quite any more), a satisfied smirk on her painted lips.  
  
"Early again," Fred commented, eyeing Hermione's low rise jeans, tank top and feminine wedge sandals. Her hair hung loose and clean about her shoulders and her eyelids were colored with a pale violet eyeshadow, a small messenger bag hung off her left shoulder, passing for a purse.  
  
"Always," she purred, her voice confident although her stomach was trying to do flip flops.  
  
George turned, letting his pale blue eyes move from Hermione's head down to her toes and then grinned. "So, are we ready? We have Muggle money, and we're dressed...is this alright?" George asked cheerfully, stepping away from the bar to do a silly twirl.  
  
"Good enough, let's go. I really don't want to waste time..." Hermione trailed, a sudden apprehension rising up in her throat like a ball of thick bile.  
  
"Of course not, time is galleons in our line of work, but we have a little something to ask you later," Fred said softly, peering around Hermione to gaze coldly at some patrons who seemed to watch their interaction with mild interest.  


Hermione shrugged, wishing the whole ordeal was over and she could go home to take care of the minor itch that was forming between her thighs. She wondered if it were because she knew she were going to the shop and unable to buy anything for herself. Or if it was George's somewhat heated perusal of her body. She had noticed his eyes lingering on a bit of bare hip above the waist line of her jeans.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Hermione was relieved that Fred and George had not acted like fish out of water when they left the Underground station and began walking into the darker parts of London. Luckily, Hermione thought, her favorite shop was on the outskirts of the seedier parts of the city. In fact to get from the Underground station to the shop, they had to walk through the ‘bohemian' district, a center for interesting music, food, art and people unlike the streets with triple ‘X' theaters and shilling peep shows.  
  
The Lion's Den was a discreet shop with a tasteful storefront: opaque glass which had been painted with a large interpretation of Henri Rousseau's ‘The Dream’. The lions in the center of the painting were accentuated with metallic gold paint and emphasized. Fred and George seemed to appreciate the storefront as did most people in the district, for the twins were whispering to each other too softly for Hermione to hear, but resulted in warm smiles from the two brothers—Twin-speak, she had only ever noticed them using it before, years ago. Perhaps they were thinking what Hermione first thought when she first came to the shop years ago, the painting and the name of the shop, which was painted with a flared hand at the top of the scene, had too much significance with their House at Hogwarts. With much trepidation, Hermione led them down a short, darkened corridor to the door of the shop.  
  
That familiar knot of apprehension tightened in Hermione's throat as the Twins went in before her, not seeming to notice that when the shopkeeper looked up, he recognized Hermione and spoke...  
  
"Jean! Back again so soon?"  
  
Hermione froze just inside the door, casting her eyes toward Fred and George who had already moved down the aisles of the shop. Hermione took a breath and slowly raised a finger to her lips demonstrating to the shop keeper, named Warren, to keep quiet. Warren, a tall and slender middle aged man with long black hair winked and nodded, going back to reading his paperback as he sat on a stool behind the register. Hermione tried to smile in thanks to Warren, who knew her well by the items she had purchased on numerous trips to the shop. Finally able to move, Hermione walked around the front display case of body jewelry and small oddities on display, moving to the first rack and absently moving her hands over the naughty lingerie on the various hangers. Her attention, however, was set on moving her eyes from Fred to George and back again. Fred was slowly walking down one row of shelves, studying the various objects, tapping his forefinger against his lips as if considering something more philosophical than sex toys. George was down another row, mirroring his brother, but was the first to pick up a package and tuck it under his arm. Hermione glanced back at Warren who was watching the Twins over the top of his book, watching like a father would watch their child for their first bicycle ride. Hermione liked Warren, liked him in the way a person would like their local grocer or mailman. But of all the times Hermione had come to the Lion's Den, Warren would engage her in a conversation that had nothing to do at all with the store and its contents. Warren was an avid reader of the strange and occult and on more than one occasion Hermione wondered if Warren were a Squib for he seemed to know much about things magical which most Muggles considered too odd to discuss in polite society. But then again, sex shops were not part of what Hermione truly considered ‘polite society.' Hermione sighed and turned her attention again to the Weasleys who had both accumulated several items under their arms to purchase later.  
  
The shop consisted of four rows of shelves and bins, in the open spaces in between were racks for hooks and hangars, all of which either displayed various sexual implements or risqué clothing for both men and women. In the back of the shop was a large display consisting of nondescript mannequins wearing some of the clothing, but posed to demonstrate the use of harnesses and ‘swings.' This display seemed to draw Fred and George together in the back of the shop. Considering it for a few moments in silence, Fred and George parted company again to walk down two different aisles. George stopped before a shelf of assorted anal toys while Fred was gazing at a rack of various adult films ranging in preferences of taste. Hermione noticed all the while, her hands now at her sides, as she leaned slightly against the clothing rack that neither of the ginger haired shoppers seemed nonplused at the range of provocative items they were perusing like grocery shoppers considering the quality of exotic fruit.  
  
Hermione took a deep, cleansing breath, expelling stale and nervous air from her lungs. So far, so good… She felt the tension drain from her body as she moved down a vacant row to consider a few items while waiting for Fred and George. She tried not to seem the least bit excited as she found a new toy, an S-shaped ‘wand' for G-spot stimulation where the label on the package read ‘Designed by Women for Women.' No, she held in her urges and tried to take a deep breath to help exercise some restraint lest she would have to activate the damage control plan she had considered that morning in case some situation would arise while in the shop. Hermione exhaled, walking away from the shelves, thinking of a way she could transfigure one of her own toys to resemble the new toy she had found.  
  
Perhaps twenty-five minutes later a very aroused, very excited Hermione noticed that the Twins were making their way toward the front counter and that both had their arms full of items. Panicking slightly, Hermione could not stop the inevitable conversation beginning between Fred, George and Warren.  
  
"...there are different types, some are self-warming on contact, some are flavored, some are more viscous than others...but it depends on the effect you want. But not all are water based, other are silicon based and some have different types of ingredients that is also up to preference," Warren was explaining as he set out different tubes and bottles of lubricant from behind the counter.  
  
"We could break down the ingredients, I suppose," Hermione heard Fred whisper to George who nodded in agreement.  
  
"And what about those?" George asked pointing to several brown glass bottles in the display case.  
  
"Ah, massage oils and aphrodisiacs... The massage oils are great, the scents tailored for arousal. Some scents are said to stimulate better blood flow, now this..." Warren sang slightly, pulling out one bottle from the display case and setting it on the counter top. "...is said to increase penile blood flow by twenty-six percent..."  
  
This near clinical conversation went on for another ten minutes as Hermione stood a few steps behind Fred and George, also quite interested in the wealth of new knowledge Warren was providing. But finally the Weasleys decided on several bottles and tubes of lubrication as well as the aforementioned massage oil before moving down the counter to the register. Hermione inwardly gasped when Warren pronounced the final total. It was as much as Hermione made for three months wages. But to the Twins, it seemed, the total was not something that worried them at all. It was Fred who paid for everything with still many a pound left in his wallet.  
  
Everything was loaded into six large plastic bags with the words: "Thank you for your patronage," printed on the sides. Hermione winked at Warren and smiled slightly as she followed the Twins out and into the corridor where the street sounds were almost foreign to the silence inside the shop. As the door shut behind Hermione, Warren blew a kiss to her and waved a silent good bye.  
  
It was over...or so she thought as she noticed that the Twins had discreetly shrank their bags in the shadows of the corridor, Fred tucked three small bags in his jeans pocket and George the other half. Nothing was said during the trip back, not even a joking word exchanged between the twin brothers. The silence made Hermione uneasy, and it was not until they had entered the Leaky Cauldron that they spoke to her. She was arranging to Floo back to Hogsmeade when they stopped her.  
  
"Let us buy you supper," Fred suggested, tugging on Hermione's wrist like a spoiled child.  
  
Hermione protested shortly, but was persuaded to sit in a booth in a smoky corner of the pub, across the table from Fred and George. She sat tensely, wishing the Twins would finish their business with her and let her return home and take care of the itch that had grown into a horrible ache between her thighs.  
  
Wooden bowls of potato soup were placed before the party of three as well as hot loaf of brown bread in the center of the table. A jug of pumpkin juice and three goblets were set out and supper commenced. Hermione noted, though somewhat preoccupied, the Twins had better table manners than their younger brother and felt herself smile absently as they used their napkins accordingly. Toward the end of the meal, George ordered a round of butterbeers as Hermione pushed her near empty bowl away, too full to eat anymore, and feeling more anxious than ever. And after the butterbeer was set upon the table, Hermione felt that the ‘conversation' she had been dreading was about to begin.  
  
"Your favor is only half fulfilled," Fred announced, his lips poised just above the tankard of butterbeer in his left hand.  
  
"Is it?" Hermione asked as nonchalantly and as innocently as she could muster.  
  
"We want your insight and opinion on our purchases," George answered, wiping his mouth of froth with his dinner napkin.  
  
"I do not think my opinion would matter much..." Hermione added gently, her eyes falling to the wood grain of the table in mock coyness.  
  
Fred and George both smiled and Hermione quickly took her butterbeer up for a sip.  
  
"But we think it would matter a great deal, Hermione," Fred purred, resting his elbows on the table on either side of his drink.  
  
Hermione tensed at Fred's words and let her tankard set on the table with a heavy thud. She glanced at either twin through her eyelashes, her breath hitching slightly noticing their grins...predatory and alluding to something a little more than friendly.  
  
"We think you will have a lot of insight on our purchases, in fact, your opinion on such matters is of great value to us," George then purred, mimicking his brother by also resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly.  
  
"I don't know what you mean...I..." she said hastily, her defenses raised.  
  
"Give it up, Hermione, we know..." Fred breathed, stretching his well-toned arms up over his head, cracking his shoulders as he flexed.  
  
"Know?" Panic was beginning to set in fully.  
  
"Ron has come over many a time and drunkenly spilled his guts...about you."  
  
"I..." she mouthed, her throat dry, her face flushing. Hermione sat back in the booth and slowly sighed...in defeat.  
  
"Our baby brother has filled us in...about part of the reason why the two of you broke it off. And believe us, we are not going to defend the prat," George continued, his voice deep and serious.  
  
"He must have inherited his prudish ways from Percy..." Fred muttered.  
  
Hermione felt her jaw set angrily, wondering what exactly Ron, the git, had told his brothers.  
  
"We always kinda figured you were wild in bed, and don't take that the wrong way, but Ron was apparently mortified when you asked him to go down on you or spank you," Fred chuckled, giving Hermione a playful wink.  
  
"Gods, what else did that bloody git tell you?" Hermione growled, somehow prying her jaw apart enough to speak. But Ron was not the only reason she was becoming a bit angry. The conversation, the fact that the Twins knew about her personal matters, were making her knickers very wet and very uncomfortable.  
  
"Oh...that you liked it rough, that you liked things Ron did not quite grasp with that pea brain of his. The whole idea of Dom/Sub is far out of his little world..." George answered, this time his turn to chuckle.  
  
"And we know you like toys..."  
  
Hermione bit her tongue, but mumbled, "H-how?"  
  
"It didn't escape our notice that you seemed a bit more familiar with that shop than just going there to buy Ginny her gift," Fred remarked.  
  
"The shopkeeper called you by name, your middle name..." George supplied as Hermione began gnawing on the inside of her cheek.  
  
"So you like a little more ‘oomph' in the bedroom, we won't begrudge you that," Fred stated before emptying his tankard. "It's actually really hot..." he finished, wiping his mouth absently with the back of his hand so that his last words were almost a mumble.  
  
"But we want your input, your expertise...as a step to fulfilling your favor."  
  
Hermione tasted blood. It was out in the open for all to see; Hermione Jean Granger: sexual deviant, ice queen having to use sex toys to get off, bookworm, and masturbator. She wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going...  
  



	3. Part Three - 'Worked up so sexual...'

**Part Three - 'Worked up so sexual...'**  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione had not thought too much about it at the time, it was only days after the trip to the Lion's Den did she realize what had begun between her and the Weasley Twins. She began cataloging it all in her mind...first at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when Fred had taken her hand, then Fred's hand on her shoulder after they had told her their plans... And the next day, George's heated gaze when she had come out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron. There were moments on the trip to the Lion's Den, when none of them had spoken as well. Weaving through the crowds in the tube station, George had placed his hand in the small of her back and Fred had a hold of her fingers. Again on the travel back to the Leaky Cauldron, George had brushed back a stray lock of Hermione's hair, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. And again, Fred tugging on her wrist to get her to stay for dinner...and all the gentle touches between, a warm hand lingering on her shoulder, a caress on the cheek, the sliding of fingers against the back of her palm and the guiding hand on her hip... Hermione felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner...  
  
  
  
But that night, as she sat stunned in the booth across from Fred and George, she was thinking of only two things: sex and murder.  
  
  
  
Mustering her will power, Hermione swallowed the bloody saliva that had accumulated in her mouth and spoke.  
  
  
  
"You can both forget it, I'm finished."  
  
  
  
She had said it, but as she waited for some loud reaction from the Weasleys, she wondered if she had really meant what she had said. Hermione's life, her lack of a love life, and her constant search for something to soothe her sexual frustrations, all of it, had her torn between whether to share these things with anyone or keep it as her darkest secret. In fact, it was because she had not shared herself with anyone else, her body's reactions were a separate entity from her logical mind. Hermione Granger was slowly losing control. Oh, how she had prided herself with her steely resolve during her years at Hogwarts, the voice of reason. She had prided herself on being so strong when the darkest days of the War were destroying the spirits of the ones she cared about the most. No one ever worried about plain, reliable Hermione and she never complained even when she could feel her own spirit beginning to falter under the strain of the responsibilities she knew she had laid upon her own shoulders. But now...the War was over, she was a Professor at Hogwarts, and her ironclad facade of strength and sensibility was crumbling under Fred and George Weasley's calm blue gaze.  
  
  
  
The distant clamor and din of the pub was the only thing Hermione was conscious of hearing besides the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. George sat back in the booth, glancing at his brother and then to Hermione, his usual warm and laughing demeanor gone and replaced by cold calculation. Fred's jaw was set, his eyes upon the empty tankard between his elbows.  
  
  
  
Hermione's heart rate was like that of a hummingbird at that point, her chest beginning to hurt, her head beginning to ache.  
  
  
  
"Just a few moments, and then..." George said softly, crossing his arms before his wide chest.  
  
  
  
"...you can forget all about this night, about us, about the favor, if you like," Fred finished, also sitting back in the booth.  
  
  
  
Hermione blinked.  
  
  
  
"You are some woman, Hermione Jean Granger..." George whispered to himself, licking his lips hastily, removing his eyes from the trickle of nervous sweat that ran from her throat down to the depression between her collarbones.  
  
  
  
"We're not asking you to demonstrate, you know," Fred interjected, his voice switching from the utmost seriousness to his usual joking chuckle.  
  
  
  
Hermione swallowed thickly, they were trying as gently as they could to convince her...and it was working. She slowly shut her eyes, unable to look at the two brothers any longer without blurting out something she knew she would regret. Half of the inner Hermione who was vying for control was dressed in furs and pelts, bare breasted with blood painting her face and her juices running down her thighs was screaming at the prim and proper Hermione. The other half of Hermione which was her logical thought was blatantly ignoring the uncouth half of her personality.  
  
  
  
The bestial and instinctual side of Hermione was controlling her body, causing her heart to pound, her skin to prickle with sweat and her pussy to swell with juices that had now soaked her knickers completely through. It was that side of Hermione Granger that wanted to laugh at Fred's words and gladly volunteer to demonstrate for the Weasley Twins. This same side of Hermione wanted to feel flesh against her flesh, flesh inside her flesh, burn away the ache in her loins and ride both young men until they screamed for mercy. And then, quite coherently, the instinctual voice seemed to remind her that Fred and George Weasley both probably knew how to pleasure a woman, unlike their younger brother.  
  
  
  
All the while the logical side was sobbing and rocking with her knees tucked under her chin in some remote corner of Hermione's brain...  
  
  
  
The wild Hermione spoke again, also telling her that if she were not able to actually have the Twins, she could always go home and spend the entire weekend playing her solo games and dreaming.  
  
  
  
"I will help you, but you have to promise me that no one... _absolutely no one_ will ever know why I was seen with the two of you in this pub, in Muggle London or in your shop. And no one will _ever_ know who had helped you with this business venture," Hermione said coldly, her eyes still closed but her fingers massaging the bridge of her nose as if to massage away a headache. And slowly she opened her eyes to see Fred and George smiling widely.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Deal."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione could have laughed at the covert way that she and the Weasley Twins had left the Leaky Cauldron. Fred had cast a Disillusionment charm on all three of them, and as they tugged her along by the wrist and down Diagon Alley she realized that the Twins were going to be very sure to keep their promise to never let anyone know of Hermione's involvement in the Wanton Witch prospect. Sliding between an unnoticeable gap between 91 and 93 Diagon Alley, Hermione watched in amused silence as George tapped his wand against the brick wall of 93 Diagon Alley, muttering words too low for Hermione to hear. In the darkness of the gap, Hermione's eyes just caught the sight of the brick wall melting into a heavy metal door.  
  
  
  
Pulling the door open, George motioned for Hermione to enter and as she did candles and lamps lit at the entrance and she realized that she was in the parlor in the back of Fred and George's shop, standing just under the wooden staircase that led to the apartments above. Fred and George moved past her, closing the door and letting it melt back into a brick wall. Fred cast a 'Finite Incantatem' on the group's disillusionment charm and moved through the parlor.  
  
  
  
"A hidden door...we made it when the War was on and wanted a concealed entrance and exit," George explained, moving across the parlor to the table before the fireplace. As Fred began pulling the shrunken packages out of his jeans pocket, George charmed the table to enlarge, making the chairs scrape against the tiled floor, as the table became twice its original size.  
  
  
  
Hermione was trying not to pant in anticipation as the Twins enlarged the six bags back to their original size and began setting out each purchase, one by one on the table. Hermione swallowed thickly and set her small messenger bag on one of the armchairs, pulling out her wand and holding it like a useless piece of vine wood and dragon heartstring and not a magical item at all. Hermione's inner selves had fallen quite silent, but the damage was done and she realized that she had been rubbing her thighs together all the while she had been standing in the Weasley Twins' parlor...and now that the Disillusionment Charm had ended, she was sure that the Twins had noticed.  
  
  
  
"Alright, your turn, Hermione," George called to her, smiling wickedly and stepping back from the table.  
  
  
  
Hermione squeaked and mechanically walked to the table, her eyes hesitant to even look at all the sexual paraphernalia on the tabletop. Her body was tensed and when Fred stepped next to her, wrapping his arm about her shoulders, Hermione nearly collapsed against him. She turned her face toward his neck, her nose only coming to the base of his throat, and she inhaled. He smelled of sandalwood and musk, masculine, a trace of sweat and the sweet scent of butterbeer from his lips.  
  
  
  
"We basically know what all of this is...um...what it is used for and to what affect, but what we want to know is it what women would perhaps buy. I think Fred picked up some things that would not be something any woman would want to put in their bodies," George snickered, glancing at his brother who seemed to hold his breath, as Hermione obviously smelled him. "We want a woman's point of view."  
  
  
  
Hermione blinked and pulled away from Fred. She knew that if she lingered any longer close to Fred Weasley he would eventually be violently stripped of his clothes and thoroughly ravished. Her self-control was at a minimum... Instead of pondering any longer on how delicious Fred seemed to smell, she stepped closer to the table and cast her eyes downward to all the wonderful toys...and another rush of hot dampness washed through Hermione's loins.  
  
  
  
Biting her lip fiercely, her eyes alighted upon an expensive set of nipple clamps called 'clover' clamps and Hermione sighed.  
  
  
  
"These clamps," Hermione croaked, her voice beginning to falter from all the urges running through her mind, pointing to the clamps, but not touching them, "...are a little too much for beginners. These tighten when you pull upon the chain and the pressure is not adjustable. As aesthetically pleasing as they are, simple tweezer clamps are a bit better."  
  
  
  
Hermione moved to her left, her eyes moving over the objects, it was her clinical observation that was arousing her mentally as it was physically. She could feel the Twins watching her. The candles on the mantle of the fireplace on the other side of the table were illuminating the items on the table like a Muggle window display.  
  
  
  
  
  
She slowly pointed to several small packaged objects and smiled slightly, "These are handy, mini-vibrators...all of which require Muggle batteries. If you have prototypes of the type of vibrator I gave Ginny, you will know what spells are necessary to make the toy live up to its name. But these small ones are nice for travel and are discreet. Be sure to make the vibrator as silent as possible, especially with these smaller models. Most women want something very quiet, with adjustable speeds of vibration and something they can discreetly tuck in the pockets of their robes. I suspect you'll find the mini-vibrators popular since they are not as innocuous as the larger versions... And this one," Hermione grinned, now becoming quite talkative and excited, pointed to a particular finger vibrator, exactly like one she owned, "...is very nice. It has interchangeable sleeves, which I find very fun..."  
  
  
  
Hermione stopped herself for a moment, realizing what she had said, but for some reason as she moved a bit around the corner of the table to the other side, it all did not seem to matter. It was almost like talking about magical theory or recommending a good book...  
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione commented on several other items, most of which were in her private collection, the shortcomings and benefits of each. Glancing out the corner of her eye, she felt a strange sense of pride to see Fred and George watching her from behind a pad of paper and a Quick-Quotes quill. They were watching her with what she considered to be fascination and maybe a little bit of awe...but more than anything she noticed that they were still holding the plastic bags with the words 'thank you for your patronage' before them instead of disposing of the bags or leaving them on the floor. She wondered if they were just so interested in what she had to say and forgotten they were holding the bags in front of themselves or if it were something else.  
  
  
  
Moving on, Hermione began again, pointing out the cons of anal beads made with cord as opposed to plastic graduated beads, pointing out that G-spot ticklers were probably going to be popular and reiterating what Warren said about some lubricants being too harsh for certain skin types. Commenting on the various functions of a dual action vibrator, chuckling to herself by calling it a 'jack rabbit,' Hermione finally finished by way of lecturing that Muggle aphrodisiacs were basically expensive mixtures of cheap animal pheromones whereas Wizarding love potions and aphrodisiacs were the 'real deal.'  
  
  
  
Falling silent, with nothing more to really say on the matter, Hermione felt a sudden embarrassed horror creep up in her mind, bashing both the logical and instinctual inner selves in the head. Her embarrassment had quashed her libido as quickly as if she had thought of Minerva McGonagall in a string bikini. Hermione did not know what to do with her hands that were now shaking, nearly dropping her wand, so she tucked her wand in her pocket, mentally picturing Mad-Eye Moody twirling like a dervish in his grave and grumbling about blasted off buttocks, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.  
  
  
  
  
  
Her eyes cast to the floor, she listened as Fred and George muttered to each other, and then canceled the charm on the Quick-Quotes quill. Hermione took a breath, anticipating either twin to speak, but was a bit flummoxed as they began separating the items on the table, Fred actually humming to himself as he did so.  
  
  
  
Hermione took the opportunity to move back across the parlor to retrieve her bag, shove her wand inside and slip the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She wondered if she could make a quick escape, make it outside and Apparate back to Hogsmeade, get totally sloshed, go home, and try and forget everything that had happened that day. But as she began edging to the door leading out into the shop, George's voice stopped her.  
  
  
  
"You can use the Floo to the Three Broomsticks,"  
  
  
  
With a sigh, Hermione nodded, her jaw set and her hands clasping the strap of her bag as if clinging to a lifeline. Fred cleared the table and returned it to its usual size, having placed the items back in the bags and set them against the back of the couch. He smiled at Hermione as she moved to the hearth, noticing a pot of Floo powder in a small metal rack bolted to the fireplace.  
  
  
  
"You've helped us out more than you know, luv," Fred commented, resting a hand on her shoulder before she could grab a handful of powder. Hermione refused to look at Fred's face, but nodded quietly, reaching for the powder.  
  
  
  
"Your favor is fulfilled."  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded again, as Fred cast a spell for fire in the grate and Hermione threw the powder in. "The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade!" and disappeared in a flourish of green flame.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
When she was walking through the Three Broomsticks she was not as nearly tempted to join her fellow professors for their Friday night drink as she usually was.  Hermione had not thought that she might run into Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, and Filius Flitwick, and she avoided them even though they were slurring her name as they called to her. No, Hermione did not want to indulge in the graces of her colleagues, she was beginning to resent their pity for her lack of a love life, and she did not want to think about theirs.  
  
  
  
Hermione nearly ran all the way to the gates of Hogwarts and into her chambers, slamming doors, waking portraits and cursing at Mrs. Norris whom she nearly tripped over in the Entrance Hall on the way to her rooms. Once inside, Hermione drew out her wand and began magically undressing, Summoning out her small trunk of toys, lighting candles and Transfiguring her bed clothes from red linens to black. And by the time she made it to her bed and flopped down on the mattress, several toys were Levitating around the bed for her to choose from.  
  
  
  
She lay on the bed, setting her wand near her right side and stared up the black bed curtains.  
  
  
  
"Bugger it all..." she muttered, realizing she was more disappointed than angry. Hermione was disappointed that she had not acted on her instincts to just throw herself at Fred and George...  
  
  
  
Taking a deep breath, Hermione sighed deeply, smacking her palm against her forehead. Her libido was wide awake again and her toys bobbed about the bed waiting for her to begin picking and choosing which to use.  
  
  
  
"...A man...I could use a man...or men..." she mumbled, letting her left hand trail away from her forehead, her fingertips grazing her heated skin, down her jaw to her throat. Focusing on the sensation of her touch alone, Hermione let her right hand run over the slight swell of her belly, over her hip bone and toward the small unshaven patch of curls just above her clit. Her left hand traced her right collarbone, moving slowly downward to the mound of her right breast. Even though her hands were small, Hermione knew that her breasts were even too round for Ron's large paws to hold. Quickly licking the tips of her left index and middle fingers, Hermione traced a spiraling circle around her breast, ending at her nipple, which was at that point was pebbled and the aureole puckered. Twirling the fingers of her right hand in the hair above her clit, Hermione let her fingers trail over the lips of her outer labia, feeling that her dampness had spread so far out of her body that even the insides of her thighs were a bit sticky.  
  
  
  
Closing her eyes, Hermione shifted her hips to spread her knees, alternating from pinching to twisting her right nipple. A hum rose up in Hermione's chest and passed her lips as a moan. Abandoning her breast, Hermione grasped at her wand and opened her eyes. Where to start?  
  
  
  
Flicking her wand, the small finger vibrator that was a twin to the one she had commented on to Fred and George, floated in range of Hermione's reach. Carelessly dropping her wand on the bed, Hermione grasped the toy and whispered a near silent 'vibrate' to the toy, like whispering to a lover and the toy began to pulse in her hand. Moving the toy to her right hand, slipping her finger into the gap, she lowered it toward the apex of her thighs. Using her left hand, Hermione spread her outer labia wide, the cool air against her molten flesh making her shiver slightly.  
  
  
  
Hermione threw her head back into the mattress as she lowered the toy to her clit, not quite touching it, but the air off the vibrations of the ribbed sleeve attachment sent violent shudders up and down Hermione's body. Curling her toes into the duvet, Hermione tapped at her clit with the toy, a hoarse groan echoing through in her room like a desperate cry.  
  
  
  
"...Fuck..." Hermione swore, biting her lip as she pressed the toy to her clit and quickly tensed. She could feel her blood rushing away from her brain and to her lower regions at a rate akin to light-speed. Circling her clit, Hermione's hips bucked and she held her breath. She knew she had been so close to coming in her jeans when she was about to leave Fred and George's that it would not take much to coax a climax out of her betraying body.  
  
  
  
Vision dimming, Hermione could only see stars as her body convulsed like that in a fit and she came with a careening cry of completion. She took the vibrator off her clit, trying in vain to catch her breath. Her vaginal muscles felt as if they were trying to grasp at something that was not there, her abdominal muscles shivered and shuddered, and her heart was beating a furious tattoo against her ribs.  
  
  
  
Feeling sweat gather at the small of her back, Hermione turned on her left side and curled in a fetal position, her heart beginning to quiet and her breathing beginning to become easier. A minute passed, perhaps five and Hermione could feel her pussy weeping juices that ran down the backs of her thighs and into the velvety texture of the duvet...she needed to be filled and perhaps afterwards she could sleep soundly.  
  
  
  
Hermione struggled to her hands and knees, snapping her head back, letting sweaty curls of hair shower down between her shoulder blades. She stretched, mimicking what she had remembered dearly missed Crookshanks doing perhaps a million or so times in his long feline/kneezle life. And with a sigh she moved across the bed to grasp her favorite toy of all...the clear jelly plastic of a dildo she liked to call the 'Dominator.'  
  
  
  
The Dominator was a seven-inch long dildo that she had bespelled to move at a spoken command in a variable thrusting motion. And quickly she wondered if Fred and George Weasley would develop their own charm for one of their marketable toys. Sitting on her haunches, she smiled to herself, albeit evilly, thinking that she could sell the charm to the twins...  
  
  
  
Pushing any more logical pondering from her mind, Hermione moved across the bed again on her hands and knees. Leaning forward she twisted her body so that her left cheek rested against the bed and her right hand, holding the Dominator was free. Licking her lips, Hermione ran the soft jelly tip of the dildo over the curve of her ass. Flexing her wrist she ran the tip from her perineum to her clit, spreading her wet and musky essence along her slit. Humming an appreciative moan, Hermione placed the tip just outside her canal and began pushing the head inside. Clenching her buttocks together she held the Dominator in place and tucked her arm under her upraised hips.  
  
  
  
"Dominate me..." she said in almost a whisper, never quite expecting what would happen next.  
  
  
  
With a slight wince, the enchanted toy penetrated her fully, and slowly began thrusting in and out of Hermione's body. She pressed her flushed face into the duvet, stifling a soft whimper. The dildo was as long as Ron, but a bit wider in girth. Hermione had always wished Ron had been a bit wider and not so long...length was just something she remembered Lavender talking avidly about during her schooldays, inconsequential to a certain extent, and something that Hermione wondered if men worried much about at all. It was part technique and foreplay that was important in Hermione's mind and Ron had failed miserably on both accounts.  
  
  
  
The Dominator began picking up speed, as it had been bespelled to do, and Hermione began thrusting back. It really was a brilliant work of charms that had enabled her to experience the basic mechanics of sex without a partner. But she knew that a partner in the flesh would be much more preferred.  
  
  
  
Slipping her right hand between her legs, Hermione began rubbing her clit furiously, the thrusting becoming more and more intense, uniform and slightly lacking in what she felt she needed. But she was panting rhythmically with the thrusts; sweat beading on her brow, her lips dry from expelling hot breath from her mouth. Ascending up the slippery slope toward climax, Hermione moved her fingers from her clit, around her body, to tease her anus with her wet digits, enjoying the sensations her nerve endings were sending to her brain and back down to her pussy.  
  
  
  
Juices trickling like a slow flood, Hermione raised her upper body with her left arm, throwing her head back and thrusting against the toy, wishing with every fiber of her being that there was a warm body for her ass to slap against and not air... The Dominator was pumping away at her pussy, the wet movement of jelly plastic and juices creating a damp squishing noise.  
  
  
  
In and out, back and forth, Hermione felt the muscles in her lower belly tense and she screamed out her glory of climax, her vaginal walls contracting so violently that the dildo was forced out of her to fall to the mattress, the charm over when contact with her flesh was terminated. Hermione moaned as she fell to her right side, clutching her rippling pussy with both hands, riding out the last waves of her orgasm.  
  
  
  
As mind blowing and intense as it all had been, Hermione felt the emptiness in her heart grow. She was the only one in her bed, and her toys only brought temporary reprieve to her more immediate sexual needs. But the flesh was sated, and after Hermione felt she could move, she twisted on the bed to grab her wand. A few incantations later her toys were cleaned and replaced in their chest, locked and hidden; her skin was cleaned and the bed turned down. With the last bit of her remaining strength she climbed under the covers and 'Nox'ed the candles. After a few moments, letting the spasms in her lower belly pass, Hermione shut her eyes and fell into a lonely, gray dream.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Term had been in full swing and the Halloween feast soon approaching when a vaguely familiar owl dropped a package in Professor Hermione Granger's lap one morning. Hermione, who was used to getting packages from her parents, friends and Flourish and Blotts, thought little of the package as large as a small tome sitting in her lap. With a sigh and glance at the Slytherin table where Nelson Skaggs was flicking bits of toast into Daisy Parkinson's hair, Hermione began to open the brown paper bound package. And as she pushed back the paper, Hermione let a small gasp pass her lips and quickly wrapped the package back up tightly. With a few quick mutterings to Headmistress McGonagall who sat on her left and Professor Flitwick who sat at her right, Hermione departed from the staff table, her robes flapping in a dramatic flourish reminiscent of her predecessor.  
  
  
  
Jogging as quickly as she could to her chambers, she threw the package in the middle of her bed and stood gasping near the door to the bedroom, eyeing the parcel disdainfully.  
  
  
  
  
"How dare they!" she growled.  
  
  
  
Realizing she only had ten minutes to make it to the dungeon classroom from the faculty tower, Hermione fled from the room, warding the doors doubly, trying to push the very thought of what she had seen under the brown paper wrapping from her head.  
  
  
Set upon the bed, obscured by plain brown paper was a small black lacquer box with the words 'Wanton Witch' scrolled into the wood in gold leaf and a small sheaf of paper with the message written in copperplate hand: 'To our best beta tester...'  



	4. Part Four - Portkey to Ecstasy...

**Part Four - Portkey to Ecstasy...**  
  
  
  
  
  
After three months, Hermione Granger began to expect Fred and George Weasley's eagle owl on every Friday of the week. After the first two months, Hermione had begun transfiguring the black lacquer boxes into something more suitable to her needs, erasing all traces of the scrolled words 'Wanton Witch' from the lid. There were also no more personal notes, only pieces of parchment inside the boxes with directions of use for the items stored within. By January she had several items from Wanton Witch securely hidden in her 'toy' chest.  
  
  
  
After the initial shock of the first package, Hermione began penning a very threatening, very direct letter to Fred and George Weasley, but half way through the letter she began to worry...worry that the letter might be intercepted accidentally, or lost. There was too much sensitive information in her letter and before long she threw it in the fireplace in her room and began to feel all the anger slip from her body like exhaling stale breath.  
  
  
  
She still had not opened the package when the second arrived, or the third... Hermione was a busy person and she had learned that after taking the position at Hogwarts she would have little time for personal pursuits and fell into her bed at night nearly exhausted and in no real mood to indulge in pleasures of the flesh. Hermione had noted, even in her days as a student, that only Professor Sinistra was ever married, but a widow by the time she took her position at Hogwarts. None of the professors were married, and few had any lasting, long-term relationships. And since starting at Hogwarts, Hermione could see why. Not only was Hermione the Potions Professor but she was also Head of Gryffindor House, as well as taking on a study group for those students wanting to improve their chances of passing the Potions N. E. W. T. in their seventh year. So Hermione waited, impatiently, until she knew she had time to really prepare herself to open the Wanton Witch boxes.  
  
  
  
When a free weekend without duties or Hogsmeade visits finally came toward the end of November, Hermione set four black lacquer boxes on the foot of her bed, the fourth only having arrived that morning. Warding her chambers with such heavy magic as to even obscure the chamber's location, Hermione undressed, bathed and entered her bedroom wrapped in a silk robe over her bare flesh. Taking a deep breath, Hermione approached the first box, her hands shaking as she reached down to open the lid. She was half expecting an explosion, sparks, a loud noise or a foul odor, but the hinges whined slightly as she let the lid fall back to reveal the contents inside.  
  
  
  
Sighing in relief, Hermione cast her eyes to the interior of the box, which was lined in red velvet that made her Gryffindor red bedroom pale in comparison. Inside, her fingers tracing the lip of the box, was what Hermione immediately recognized as a bullet vibrator, very similar to the one she had bought Ginny what seemed ages ago. Pulling out the three-inch long tube with the dulled, yet slightly pointed end, Hermione immediately noticed the weight of the toy. Since there were no batteries, this toy seemed much lighter than the Muggle version. Under the bullet was a folded piece of parchment, which Hermione snagged before replacing the bullet toy back in its molded case inside the box. Unfolding the paper, Hermione immediately smirked, reading the words printed in the same copperplate hand as the words on the lid of the box.  
  
  
  
_'Introducing the Pocket Rocket! Small, discreet and totally silent, this little rocket will vibrate and titillate a Wanton Witch to the point of explosion! With just a simple incantation: "Vibrata" you'll see stars!'_  
  
  
  
Hermione found herself giggling at the very inane instructions, hoping that some witch would write in and tell the Twins to hire someone to rewrite their simple note so that it would sound a bit more professional and not like an advertisement for U-No-Poo. Tucking the small scrap of parchment back inside the box, Hermione shut the lid and moved to the next box. The second package was slightly smaller and as Hermione opened it she saw why. Inside was what looked like an expensive piece of jewelry and not a sexual device. The item was like a silver finger cuff that would fit over the third and second finger joints, tastefully incised with scrolled ivy designs. The ring itself reminded Hermione of some of the Muggle jewelry she had seen teenagers wearing in Muggle London, and as she plucked out the folded parchment Hermione grinned at the pure genius behind this ring.  
  
  
  
_'Introducing the Silver Cuff! Slip this ring on any finger and it will resize to fit a Wanton Witch's delicate digit. The Silver Cuff is fashionable, discreet and guaranteed to undulate and titillate! No incantation required. When finished, just slip the ring from your finger and the vibrations will cease.'_  
  
  
  
Curious at the effect of the ring, Hermione removed it from the box and slipped her left index finger into the cuff, the cool silver sending shivers through her body. As the instructions had read the large ring resized magically to fit over her finger, bending it comfortably at the joint and leaving just the tips of her finger free to move and flex. One moment or two passed and suddenly Hermione's finger began to pulsate pleasurably. Raising her finger to her mouth, Hermione squeaked at the intensity of the ring's vibration on her lower lip. Hermione blinked in surprise, lowering her hand to touch her right nipple through the silk of her robe. The effect was instantaneous and Hermione sighed as the vibrations on her nipple sent a hot sensation running down to her clit. The Silver Cuff was ingenious! She wore it for over five minutes, noting that the undulation was not making her finger numb and when she pulled on the finger cuff with her right hand the silver slipped easily from her finger and the vibrations ended as promised. Slowly she replaced the cuff back in its box, a smile gracing her lips. She knew it was Fred and George's variation of the small finger vibrator Hermione had showed so much interest and enthusiasm about in the parlor of their shop...and for Fred and George to make something so ingenious... Hermione felt a new found respect for the Weasley Twins.  
  
  
  
The third box contained a dildo made of what looked like crystal and shaped to resemble with excruciating detail a man's six-inch long erect penis. Hermione wondered what enchantment Fred and George had placed on such an innocuous looking toy and quickly read the instructions included.  
  
  
  
_'Is your wizard getting predictable in bed? Is your wizard just not as long lasting as he claimed? Wanton Witch introduces the Enduring Erection! This toy is guaranteed to last as long as you want it to last! Just insert the head of this cock in your preferred orifice and experience all the sensations of being taken by the wizard of your dreams. To begin your ride, simply whisper "Comincia" to your toy and the Enduring Erection will do the rest! This toy features varying levels of thrust, speed and action that imitates very realistically a wizard's motions during love making. The Enduring Erection is not for the 'inexperienced.' To end your journey into ecstasy, simply remove the Enduring Erection and the enchantment will end.'_  
  
  
  
Hermione smiled in satisfaction. The Twins seemed to have sensed Hermione's line of thinking when she had enchanted her 'Dominator.' But she wondered if there were any significant differences with the charms and enchantments on this toy. If the instructions were of any indication, Fred and George had placed much more complex charms on the toy than Hermione had on the 'Dominator.' The stroke of the 'Dominator' was basically uniform and Hermione had often wondered in her free time what other charms she could use to improve her toy. Unfortunately, Hermione knew, too many enchantments on Muggle-made materials were not very lasting; the Muggle materials of silicone and synthetic rubbers were not wonderful receptors for the unmeasurable essence of magic. Curious, Hermione ran her fingers over the 'Enduring Erection,' and immediately drew back in shock. The dildo did not feel like rubber or crystal as it looked, in fact it was warm, soft and stiff as if she were touching the real thing. Tentatively she touched it again and the unknown material seemed to pulse under her fingertips. It was startling to Hermione and a bit disconcerting, but she pulled the dildo from the box and let it rest in both hands. At her touch the toy seemed to stiffen even more and actually lengthen another inch. Biting her lip, Hermione turned the toy over in her hands several times. Without testing, Hermione could not figure out what the toy was made of or immediately see what enchantments and spells that were used to make the 'Enduring Erection' feel so lifelike in her hands. Slowly she replaced it in the box, the dildo shrinking to fit back in its molded place in the velvet and appeared as it had been, innocuous and less than what it truly was...  
  
  
  
Slowly closing the lid, Hermione moved to the last box, trying to ignore the ache of arousal deep in her belly. The last box was as big as the one before it and Hermione could not guess what could be inside. Almost too preoccupied with wanting to analyze the previous item, Hermione felt as if it took an age to open the last box. But as she dropped the lid open, she was once again looking at a very recognizable item that seemed no different from its muggle counterpart. Sighing, she once again pulled the instructions out, her eye widening in surprise at what Fred and George had created.  
  
  
  
_'Wanton Witch introduces their Self-Lubricating Bottom Beads! This item is guaranteed to please those who like it in the end... As the name implies these graduated beads are self-lubricating with gentle, non-scented and non-allergenic oils that will aid in reaching that pleasurable point of ecstasy. The lubricant and oils react according to a witch's wanton body and is easy to clean off bed sheets and clothing with a simple cleansing charm. The Self-Lubricating Bottom Beads never require a refilling and various lubes and oils are available for special order.'_  
  
  
  
With a raised eyebrow, Hermione glanced at the red beads that were coiled slightly in the box. Another ingenious idea, but Hermione wondered again how the Twins managed such difficult charms and spells, and even what type of lubricants and oils they had developed.  
  
  
  
Finally Hermione set all the boxes back as they had been, closing the lids and stepping back from the bed to stare at the reflection of the firelight and candlelight flickering over the reflective lacquered surfaces. It was obvious from the first box to the latest that Fred and George Weasley were getting better and better with this new product line. But Hermione was reluctant to try the products for herself. She had been pondering for the past three weeks as to why Fred and George had sent her their products, free of charge with only one embarrassing note and no others since as a form of explanation. She also wondered if these boxes were merely prototypes or were they already being sold? It then occurred to Hermione that she did not know how or where Fred and George were advertising their Wanton Witch Products. Hermione giggled to herself, imaging seeing an advert in the Daily Prophet, but she knew that even the infamous Weasley Twins would not be so blatant to go that far. No, they had to be running adverts in some magazine geared toward women, perhaps even some of the more pornographic magazines she had seen behind the counter of some of the shops in Diagon Alley. Again, Hermione's curiosity was peaked, and she wondered when she could pop by Diagon Alley and perhaps purchase a magazine of her own...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
By the time the Christmas holiday came, Hermione had several more Wanton Witch boxes hidden in her bedroom. She had the Wanton Witch's set of erotic massage oils and lotions (which she tested for herself and delightfully found to be very well made and mixed), the Wanton Witch's 'Double Your Pleasure' vibrator/dildo/anal plug that boasted its effectiveness of sending a wanton witch into 'fits of irrepressible pleasure,' the Wanton Witch's 'Naughty Wench' set that included various self-strapping and locking restraints that could be disillusioned to be secretly tied to bed posts, and the Wanton Witch's 'Bottom Bludger Bat' which was a very intimidating looking paddle with variable rates of strength to each slap. All of these things Hermione had moved into her now enlarged 'toy' chest.  
  
  
  
Hermione had finally worked up the courage to begin trying the various items and soon found she was discreetly disposing of her Muggle implements. The 'Dominator' was retired and quickly replaced by the realistic feel and motions of Fred and George's product. The Silver Cuff was her new favorite vibrator and her old one was pushed back to the bottom of the chest, slowly gathering dust. And after her first round with the Wanton Witch products, Hermione began to feel anxious and excited every time the eagle owl would drop a package in her lap every Friday.  
  
  
  
The only problem, Hermione soon realized, was that the other professors had begun to notice her weekly packages. It was just before Christmas when Rolanda Hooch mentioned something to Hermione about the sheer amount of packages she had been accumulating over the weeks.  
  
  
  
"Bits and bobs from my mum," Hermione answered directly, shrugging and quickly tucking the small package into the shrinking pockets in her robes. And every night she tried her new acquisition...  
  
  
  
Still no notes had come with the packages and Hermione felt she had nothing to say to the twins in return. Granted she wanted to thank Fred and George for their contributions to her 'toy' chest, but still felt it inappropriate to ever mention it.  
  
  
  
Hermione had finally bought her magazine in Diagon Alley, trying to ignore the pointed stare of the shopkeeper at Flourish and Blotts. She had been correct in assuming Fred and George had placed their advert in 'Playwitch.' The advert was tasteful, to the point, and the address to purchase a catalogue for five sickles was an address far away from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. In fact there was no real hint that Fred and George Weasley had anything to do with Wanton Witch and she smiled at the words at the bottom of the advert which flashed from gold to black: 'Confidentiality and discretion is Wanton Witch's credo!'  
  
  
  
The Christmas holiday was quiet for Hermione, leaving Hogwarts only once to spend Christmas day with her parents via an intercontinental Portkey. The visit had been pleasant, but slightly strained by her father's mention of wanting a son-in-law before too long. Her parents were quite aware of her break-up with Ron and her current status as a spinster school marm... But Hermione smiled and told her father that she was still looking for someone worthy to bring home.  
  
  
  
Spring term began and Hermione was as busy as ever, trying her best to make time to pamper herself with the gifts she was still receiving well into January. It was a gift on the third Friday of January that stunned Hermione more than any of the other packages she had received. That night when she opened the familiar lacquer box, Hermione was expecting a new toy, perhaps even a self-lacing corset like the one she had received on the off day of Christmas. But this gift on that third Friday in January appealed to Hermione's love for books. A piece of familiar parchment was tucked inside the cover of a plain, nondescript leather bound tome, and Hermione felt heat rise up in her cheeks as she read it.  
  
  
  
_'Wanton Witch introduces "The Sexual Prowess of Woman," a book authored by Lady Ophelia Hopkirk, now updated with illustrations and annotations.'_  
  
  
  
Hermione knew of this book, having read about it in a bibliography of Eromancy. 'The Sexual Prowess of Woman" was considered a 'banned' for many years and had been written over one hundred and fifty years before. Copies of Lady Hopkirk's book were rare and hard to come by, and she started at the table of contents on the next page, wondering how Fred and George could have gotten the rights to republish and sell such an obscure book.  
  
  
  
Pulling the book from the box, Hermione tucked it under arm, shoving the box under her bed. Perhaps this would be an interesting change from her usual routine on Friday nights. She had always loved curling up in bed in her silk robe with a book, but this book was guaranteed to be different. Burrowing in the covers, Hermione set back into the pillows piled against the headboard and opened the book to the first page.  
  
  
  
"The Sexual Prowess of Woman," was an easy read for the most part, beginning by explaining the female anatomy and the sensitivities of a woman's body. Hermione found that the information, according to the various footnotes, had been slightly revised to suit modern times, but little was changed with the general context. The book went on to explain the concept of erogenous zones, the physicality of arousal and the definition of the basic sexual orientations. Hermione read on to the part of the book which was specifically about heterosexual intercourse and at that point the illustrations became key. As with any wizarding book, the illustrations were not static and moved. It was like watching a short scene that had been looped. A detailed picture of a longhaired witch and a short hair wizard were grinding together in a repeating motion that illustrated the basic missionary position. Hermione smiled as she read the caption under the illustration, listing all the titles for the position, right down to the Sanskrit titles used in the Kama Sutra. She smiled even wider when Lady Hopkirk noted: _"This position has great possibilities in variation, but is perhaps the simplest position for the wizard besides lying idly on his back..."_ Hermione chuckled to herself thinking that this position was the only one Ron Weasley could ever comprehend. She remembered how horrified Ron had been when she had forcefully reversed the position so that she was in charge...apparently Ron did not like the fact he was not in control.  
  
  
  
As Hermione flipped on, more illustrations revealed positions Hermione only wished she could have been in with Ron. The witch atop the wizard, twisting her hips as she knelt over his erection...a position which Hermione remembered Lavender Brown calling the 'Reverse Cowgirl,' and then another that was crudely called in Hermione's mind, 'doggy-style.' There were smaller illustrations of variations of each, a raised leg here, and legs about hips there... And as she continued the positions became more and more like acrobatic feats. The notes did caution the witch of the difficulty with such positions, but also said: _"With practice and perhaps a few well-placed Charms, these more difficult positions are as fulfilling to a witch's need for competition as it is challenging to the witch's mind."  
_  
  
  
Fascinated with watching the illustrations move and grind, Hermione began to feel very warm and after flipping the pages to the end of the section, she had moved so that the book rested on her knees and her left hand was under the covers, teasing her engorged clit through her knickers.  
  
  
  
The next section dealt with the possibility of threes...two wizards and a witch. Hermione felt her belly tighten at the next set of illustrations that differed from the previous illustrations. As she watched two very detailed and almost identically drawn wizards ravish a long, curly haired witch, Hermione bit her lip. One wizard was lapping at the witch's left nipple and the other had his face obscured, as he seemed to be lapping at the witch's nether regions with his tongue. The witch lay on a bed between the two men, writhing, and her mouth open as the moving illustration looped and looped before Hermione's eyes. The illustration had an eagle eye's point of view, and Hermione blinked when it seemed color flashed on the illustration, the witch with caramel curls and the wizards with red, shaggy hair.  
  
  
  
Swallowing thickly, Hermione turned the page with her free hand, her left hand slipping past the edge of her knickers and to her hot flesh. The next picture was a different view of the same characters, this time the witch knelt before one wizard on her hands and knees, her lips stretched around the wizard's prick, her head undulating back and forth. The wizard was running his hands over his bare chest, pinching a nipple. Meanwhile the other wizard knelt behind the witch, his face buried in her pussy, drinking her in. Hermione moaned aloud, curling her toes into the sheet of the bed, her fingers circling her clit. The next picture was even better...  
  
  
  
The wizard who had knelt behind the witch had now moved and was penetrating the witch with a very large prick, all the while kissing the other wizard, their tongues swirling as the witch was now licking at the wizard's testicles. Color slowly bled into the illustration as it moved and Hermione's eyes were cracked slightly as she panted through her mouth. Two red haired wizards...and one witch, resembling Hermione in almost excruciating detail…  
  
  
  
The next illustration...one red haired wizard beneath the witch, thrusting up into her pussy as she sat above him...the other penetrating her ass… The wizards moved in tandem, their faces strained, the wizard on the bottom grasping the witch's hips, the other grasping her breasts roughly as she moved between them.  
  
  
  
By the time Hermione managed to turn the page she was close to climax, she touched the next page, the illustration burned into her mind. And just before she came something she never expected happened...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In her mind's eye she could see the illustration of the two wizards, one behind the other while one of the red haired wizards was penetrating the witch—a chain of bodies thrusting into each other. But she had no time to think much more about that image as she felt something seem to hook behind her navel and pull her up, out, and forward.  
  
  
  
Hermione had never liked Portkey travel; it was even more nauseating than Floo travel and after her international Portkey to her parents, she had been violently ill. But by the time she comprehended that the page she had touched was a portkey, she was where she had been meant to go.  
  
  
  
She had fallen heavily onto a thickly carpeted floor, her left hand still in her knickers and her right grasping and wrinkling the page she had initially touched. Hermione was so startled by what had happened she did not move, her fingers pinching her clit slightly, her eyes wide and slowly casting about. She found herself in a room that was not her own. It was a bedroom; a large four-poster in the exact middle of the room. There were large windows behind it, looking out to a wintry night sky, and the walls were wood panel with various nonmoving paintings. An overlarge fireplace was just behind her and she could feel the heat of the flames burning her flesh through her thin silk robe.  
  
  
  
Besides the sound of the crackling fire, Hermione heard heavy breathing, and her eyes alighted on the oversized bed. Her eyes widened and unconsciously her fingers began to work her clit once more. Kneeling in the center of the bed, chests pressed together, tongues intertwined; erections bumping against each other were Fred and George Weasley.  
  
  
  
Hermione blinked in confusion several times, and audibly squeaked as her climax began to grip her. Her eyes slammed shut as she fell back into the carpet, the combination of the Portkey, the illustrations in the book now forgotten beside her and the image of Fred and George Weasley sent Hermione over the edge and her body tensed and she screamed, a rush of wet, hot, musky juices flooding her knickers and rushing over her fingers.  
  
  
  
She sobbed her release, not feeling warm hands on her body, lifting her and moving her to a soft bed. Her mind was spinning from the intensity of her orgasm that she did not feel or notice that her robe was being stripped away. Hermione was limp and racked with spasms as her ruined knickers were peeled down her thighs and off her legs, an appreciative mouth tasting her essence right from the fabric of her panties.  
  
  
  
Distantly Hermione heard voices speaking to her. "We wondered when you would get here."  
  
  
  
"It was a good thing we did not have to wait too long..."  
  
  
  
Hermione tensed as the words began to make sense in her muddled brain. Her eyes focused first on Fred who was at her right and then to George on her left. George's erection was digging into her hip and Hermione summoned the strength to move. They were smiling, no, grinning like twin wolves about to eat their prey and Hermione moved to flee. She sat up quickly, knocking the Twins off balance and began sliding to the foot of the bed. She thought that if she could get back to the book that rested on the carpet before the fireplace, she could wake up from this...this...not quite a nightmare, but definitely a dream.  
  
  
  
Just before her bare feet could hit the carpet, Hermione was jerked backwards, her wrists flying above her head. Instinctually Hermione struggled, but found that thick red ribbons were wrapped securely around her wrists, continuing to magically wrap themselves around her forearms like some twisted form of Devil's Snare. Hermione was panting as she fought, her mind beginning to fog from fear.  
  
  
  
"Easy...easy, you're going to hurt yourself," one of the Twins said, but Hermione could not discern which.  
  
  
  
Hermione ceased to struggle and closed her eyes, trying to control her erratic heartbeat and breathing. She was lying in the middle of the bed, naked, between Fred and George Weasley, clamping her thighs together to find some sort of modesty about herself despite her bound and vulnerable position. She flinched, but did not open her eyes, as fingers soothed away sweaty curls from her eyes and mouth.  
  
  
  
When she felt she could speak coherently, Hermione opened her eyes.  
  
  
  
"You gits! What have you done?" she growled, her teeth grinding as she glanced from one twin to the other.  
  
  
  
"Isn't it obvious, luv?" George asked, chuckling, his erection once again pressing into the side of her left hip.  
  
  
  
"We thought you would have figured it out by now," Fred continued, caressing her cheek with the inside of his thumb.  
  
  
  
Hermione glared at Fred and pulled against her bonds again only to feel the ribbons begin to tighten about her arms.  
  
  
  
"We sent you the gifts...the toys, the oils, the corset...pity you did not wear it tonight," George purred, skimming his fingertips up her ribs to the undersides of her protruding breasts.  
  
  
  
"You tricked me," Hermione gritted out, trying not to show any pleasurable reaction to George's touch.  
  
  
  
"Au contraire, Hermione...you want this, more than you know," Fred hummed, lowering his mouth to kiss her elbow and then her temple.  
  
  
  
"We may have enticed you too much by sending you that book...we knew you could not resist reading...but you touched the Portkey, a particular page with a particular illustration..." George whispered, laying down next to Hermione, facing her and letting his fingers circle around her navel.  
  
  
  
"Not to mention the fact that you had your hands in your knickers when you touched the Portkey..." Fred whispered in Hermione's ear before catching the lobe between his teeth and sucking.  
  
  
  
"I..." Hermione began, but her voice was faltering. Her body was aching at the feelings Fred and George were inflicting on her body.  
  
  
  
"Admit it, luv...you've been thinking about us...for a while now."  
  
  
  
"I...no...I..." Hermione panted as George's fingers moved southward, over her shaved mound and outward to the stickiness on the insides of her thighs.  
  
  
  
"You did not return the gifts...you used them...and thought about us at times and what it would be like...with us," Fred hissed, his eyes piercing through Hermione's, his voice and demeanor bordering on something Hermione felt was dangerous, yet exciting at the same time.  
  
  
  
"No..." she whimpered as George's lips wrapped around Hermione's left nipple, tugging at the flesh with a pull of his teeth.  
  
  
  
"Must we fetch some Veritaserum, Hermione?" Fred asked pointedly twisting her right nipple roughly.  
  
  
  
"No!" she squeaked.  
  
  
  
"No, what?" Fred asked almost mockingly, twisting Hermione's nipple again, but this time not as roughly, but Hermione was undone by his touch, her eyes filling with frustrated tears.  
  
  
  
"I want...I wanted to..." she muttered, her breath coming out hot and short.  
  
  
  
"Hm?" Fred hummed in question as he lowered his face close to Hermione's.  
  
  
  
"I wanted you both...I wanted to know what it would be like...if it were better than..." she began, nearly sobbing as George's deft fingers began forcing their way between Hermione's thighs.  
  
  
  
"...if we were better than Ron?" Fred chuckled.  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded, closing her eyes and letting her knees fall open. George hummed against her breast in thanks and dipped his middle finger into Hermione's soaking slit.  
  
  
  
"Oh believe me, luv, we'll show you...and you'll never want for anyone again," Fred whispered, his voice hitching slightly as he glanced at George who was watching him with Hermione's reddened nipple between his lips.  
  
  
  
Hermione began to speak again when Fred pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue goading and coaxing, his lips devouring Hermione's mouth. It was a kiss like none other to Hermione and she could feel the effects of this kiss down in the tips of her unruly hair. She wanted to wrap her arms about his neck, but the ribbons seemed to heat up around her wrists in protest.  
  
  
  
When Fred pulled away, leaning back on his haunches, his lips were redder than his hair. Hermione sighed as George's mouth trailed down her body and he shifted to lie between her legs. Hermione watched through her eyelashes as George winked and began kissing his way up her thigh and to her center. Hermione glanced at Fred as he watched his brother's face bury itself in Hermione's core. Hermione groaned as George's mouth latched onto her engorged clit and began sucking harder and harder and then nipping with his teeth.  
  
  
  
Fred ran a hand down his chest as Hermione watched. Fred and George both were not overly hairy, a thin trail of red hair beginning between well-defined pectoral muscles, trailing down their hard bellies, gradually getting redder as it ended in a thatch of flames above their very hard and purple veined cocks. Hermione noted that both twins were not as long as Ron, perhaps only six inches to Ron's seven, but were wide and a bit intimidating with their girth. Fred began stroking his length with his right hand, his left hand grasping Hermione's breast, squeezing.  
  
  
  
"...Gods..." Hermione hissed as George shifted his body to insert a digit in her aching pussy.  
  
  
  
"You want this, Hermione?" Fred asked breathlessly, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes like a crimson curtain fringe.  
  
  
  
Two digits, pumping...  
  
  
  
Hermione tensed and groaned, "Yessss..."  
  
  
  
Suddenly the ribbons binding her arms were gone and Hermione groaned, slowly working her hands to restore the blood flow and lowered her arms to grasp George's hair, brushing over one ruined ear and one intact ear, as he alternated licking and nipping her clit. Fingers thrusting in and out quicker now, Hermione gasped and bucked her hips, nearly dislodging George's mouth form her body. Fred chuckled, rubbing the head of his cock against Hermione's breast. George sucked at her clit harder than before and Hermione felt her body buck again, her blood boiling as she opened her mouth in a silent scream.  
  
  
  
George quickly removed his fingers and lifted her hips so that he take her flood into his mouth, licking and sucking at her hole as she thrashed her head about and gripped the sheets beneath her. When she finally began breathing again, George lowered her hips and sat up, licking his lips and grinning.  
  
  
  
"So sweet..." he muttered, also licking his fingers.  
  
  
  
Hermione watched in fascination, the dim candlelight and firelight in the room making her juices glisten on George's chin and cheeks. Fred leaned toward his brother, abandoning his cock and wrapping his arm about his brother's neck to pull him close. Hermione gasped as Fred licked George's face and lips with a need to taste what his brother had tasted. George tangled his fingers in Fred's hair, their tongues dueling, their kiss deepening. Hermione groaned as she watched them, the heat returning to her body and her fingers trailing up her ribs to pinch her sensitive nipples. It was beautiful, watching the brothers kiss and hum against each other.  
  
  
  
Hermione whimpered and Fred and George broke apart, glancing at Hermione as if remembering she were there. But they smiled down at her, and Hermione felt a blush rise up in her cheeks. The way they were looking at her at that moment made Hermione feel as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. Their gazes were full of adoration and perhaps love?  
  
  
  
"We haven't forgotten our girl," George whispered, moving to lie again by Hermione's left side, pressing his damp lips against hers. Hermione hungrily tasted George, sucking on his lips and tongue, her hands burying in his hair to pull him close. And when she finally pulled away she was gasping, as was her lover.  
  
  
  
"You're bloody brilliant with your tongue," she panted, rubbing her nose against George's cheek lovingly.  
  
  
  
"So I've been told," he chuckled, glancing at Fred who had moved to George's recently vacated spot, winking.  
  
  
  
Hermione gasped as she felt Fred grasp her knees and shift her body so that he could kneel between her thighs. Fred grinned down at Hermione as he let his turgid prick slap against her wet slit. Hermione narrowed her eyes as George pulled away to kneel at her side.  
  
  
  
"Ready to up the ante?" Fred whispered, running the head of his cock up and down Hermione's soaking core. In answer, Hermione wrapped her legs about Fred's waist and pulled him closer. Fred fell forward with a laugh, catching himself on his hands, kneeling over Hermione, still grinning.  
  
  
  
Hermione glanced at George who was now stroking his semi-erect cock near Hermione's face. She bit her lip in concentration as Fred flexed his hips and the tip of his cock came to rest at her entrance. She narrowed her eyes, moving her hips, while she reached out for George with her left hand.  
  
  
  
"George wants to watch me fuck you, Hermione..." Fred whispered as he pushed inside only an inch.  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
  
  
"And I want to watch you suck him off," Fred purred.  
  
  
  
Hermione smirked and tried to force Fred in further.  
  
  
  
"And I also want to be the one to make you come undone…first," Fred grunted as he thrust roughly into Hermione, making her arch off the bed and her eyes roll back into her head. He felt huge, bigger than any of her toys, and by far, much better.  
  
  
  
Fred leaned back slightly, grasping Hermione's hips as he began a rhythm and swearing under his breath.  
  
  
  
"She's so tight..." Fred muttered to George who was watching in fascination as Fred moved.  
  
  
  
"Or maybe you're too big," Hermione grunted, getting used to the moderate pace and angle of Fred's movement.  
  
  
  
George chuckled as Hermione grasped his erection and tugged slightly so that he moved closer. Hermione grunted as Fred shifted his angle slightly, not filling her completely, but hitting her special spot with the very tip of his cock. George lifted Hermione's head slightly to rest it on his thigh, making it easier and more comfortable for Hermione to take him in her mouth. For a few moments Hermione stroked George firmly, making softly mewling sounds as Fred continued to fuck her. Then Hermione opened her eyes and glanced up at George who unconsciously licked his lips. Hermione did the same and George smiled, pushing hair away from her beautiful face. Beginning with a few experimental licks, Hermione took the head of George's cock in her mouth, letting her lips wrap around the head and apply suction. George hissed out of pleasure as Hermione began.  
  
  
  
Although Ron would never go down on Hermione, he never hesitated to try and stick his long, slender dick in her mouth. At first Hermione found it not only offensive to her sensibilities but it hurt her that Ron would never reciprocate. But after a bit of begging she finally gave Ron what he wanted and after a while it was all Ron ever wanted. Hermione was only concerned about getting it over as quickly as possible and had developed a strategy to aid to that end. But at that very moment, it was George Weasley who was beginning to thrust shallowly into the cavern of her mouth. George was so much more accommodating than Ron, at least he would go down on her...but it was more than that. Fred and George were trying to pleasure her more than Ron ever could have. They had given her an experience, so far, that she knew she would never forget. But the night was not over.  
  
  
  
Fred thrust fully into Hermione, sweat dripping from his hair and down his back. He had pushed Hermione's knees to her chest and was pounding into her body in earnest. His breath was ragged and occasionally accented by light whimpers and deep groans. Hermione was whimpering as well, the vibrations of her muffled voice reverberating up George's cock, making him moan—a sensual feedback loop.  
  
  
  
Hermione pulled her mouth away from George who sighed in relief—so close. Hermione felt that familiar tension building at light-speed deep in her belly. And with two more deep, thrusts she came screaming Fred's name, her inner walls pulling Fred's cock deeper inside.  
  
  
  
"Oh...fu-! " Fred whimpered unable to finish his curse, jerking out of Hermione's body before he too came. Instead George pushed Hermione's legs down and apart and began tonguing her clit again.  
  
  
  
Hermione was outright crying by the time George's tongue tired and Fred began caressing her face, licking away her tears. The three of them relaxed and fell into the bed, sweaty and panting, Hermione between her two lovers. It was too hot for Hermione to want to curl around either twin, so she remained on her back, resting her hands over her racing heart and closed her eyes.  
  
  
  
Hours, minutes, Hermione could not know for sure, she had rolled on her belly and someone was pulling her tight buttocks apart and doing something to her she had only fantasized about. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced back to watch Fred Weasley nudge himself a space between her legs, his tongue dipping into her milky pussy and then moving to trace the rim of her pucker.  
  
  
  
"Oh, Merlin..." she breathed, glancing over at George who was still at her left side, one arm behind his head, the other stroking his cock as he also watched Fred.  
  
  
  
"Nice dreams, luv?" Fred asked, glancing up from Hermione's arse to meet her eyes.  
  
  
  
"The dream isn't over yet, is it?" she asked, her voice husky and deep from all the screaming from the round before.  
  
  
  
"Not if you don't want it to be," George stated.  
  
  
  
Hermione buried her face into the pillows and grinned. She could get used to this.  
  
  
  
George kissed a trail down Hermione's spine as Fred began working Hermione's tight puckered petals with his wicked tongue. Hermione groaned and stretched, pulling her legs under her body to rise up to her hands and knees.  
  
  
  
"Get under me, George," Hermione purred. George smirked and maneuvered himself so that he laid facing up, Hermione's breasts hanging above his face.  
  
  
  
"This must be heaven," George muttered.  
  
  
  
"Hm?" Fred asked, his tongue still occupied.  
  
  
  
George nodded as Hermione began dipping her fingers into her pussy and spreading the juices. Fred spread Hermione's ass cheeks wider, licking and fingering. Hermione groaned as he pushed his tongue into her and then squeaked as Fred slapped her ass. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but George had risen up and taken claim of her lips. Hermione moaned into George's mouth as Fred inserted a finger in her ass and one in her pussy, working them in and out slowly. Hermione pushed back as Fred continued to coax Hermione's puckered hole.  
  
  
  
"Dirty girl," he growled, and wandlessly Accio'ed a bottle of specially made Wanton Witch lubricant. George opened his eyes as Hermione nibbled his lips and watched as Fred drizzled clear lube on Hermione's ass cheeks and on his red and painfully hard cock.  
  
  
  
Hermione grunted again as Fred slapped the side of her right cheek and then the other. George grinned as Hermione fell against his chest, wheezing as Fred worked another knuckle inside her ass. While she had been asleep, George had cast a newly patented spell to clean Hermione's body inside and out, as well as a contraception spell and apparently she had not noticed the shimmer of magic that had spread over her. George wanted to fill Hermione with his seed, but he knew that she had been too overwhelmed to think of protective measures and he was sure she would not appreciate carrying a Weasley child...yet...  
  
  
  
"Oh...oh gods," Hermione cried as Fred worked in a second finger, scissoring his fingers in her tight flesh.  
  
  
  
At Hermione's impassioned words, George's cock twitched and he took her by the shoulders and settled her over his cock. He glanced at Fred who nodded and forced Hermione down, her pussy stretching to accommodate George's girth.  
  
  
  
"Ugh!" she grunted loudly, her eyes snapping open to meet George's. George blinked at the sudden tight heat that surrounded him and instinct took over. He could distantly hear Fred protest and slowed his pace, Hermione screaming and clawing at George's shoulders.  
  
  
  
Hermione was in one word: overwhelmed. George was thrusting up into her womb, and Fred was pushing slowly into her ass. Hermione consciously made herself take a breath and relax, leaning forward slightly to also accommodate Fred. When he slid inside, his cock a bit too slippery yet, George froze at the sensation of his brother's length through the thin bit of flesh in Hermione's body. Fred grasped Hermione's hips and leaned forward, pushing in as far as he could. George smirked as Fred leaned in for a kiss and then they began moving inside Hermione.  
  
  
  
One in, the other out, just like the illustration in Lady Hopkirk's book, Hermione began alternating gasping Fred and George's names and swearing out words that would have stunned both men if they were not so distracted by Hermione's presence. Hermione began moving with them, the exquisite sensation of being totally possessed and filled fueling her body to move.  
  
  
  
Time slipped, the world turned upside down and spun sideways, and Hermione rode her lover's cocks like a wild haired Valkyrie. Fred was the first to succumb, Hermione's soft and luscious body too tight for him to hang on. With a strangled cry he emptied himself inside her, his body jerking painfully before he was totally spent.  
  
  
  
George was trying hard to ride out Hermione's multiple orgasms, but when she bit into the muscle of his shoulder, the mixture of the pain and the heavenly feel of Hermione's pussy milking at his cock sent him over the edge. He bucked once, twice and then cried out her name as he felt himself come harder than he could ever remember into the beauty that was clinging to him so tightly.  
  
  
  
All the while Hermione had nearly lost consciousness, distantly hearing the Twins' cries and reveling in that she was the one who had such power over them. She felt free, beautiful, power and loved...and slowly as she rolled away, the wet pop of two spent cocks disengaging from her body, she smiled.  
  
  
  
The room reeked of sex and sweat and Hermione could only smile. This was what she wanted, maybe had always wanted, and she hoped she could do it again...very soon. She had always loved Fred and George Weasley, but now she had reason to love them even more than she ever thought possible.  
  
  
  
"Thank you..." she whispered, feeling tears pooling outside her closed eyelids.  "Thank you..."  
  
  
  
Kisses were pressed against her lips and face, tongues licked away her tears and arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. The fire had burned low and the cool winter air had come down the Floo, and Hermione let herself be encased between Fred and George Weasley in a tangle of limbs.  
  
  
  
After several moments of silence and then a few contented sighs...  
  
  
  
"You owe us another favor," Fred whispered, and Hermione's eyes snapped open in shock.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_The End?_  



End file.
